


If You Want It

by GRtheS



Series: Know Your Own [1]
Category: Luke Cage (TV)
Genre: F/M, My First Fanfic, Older Woman/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 15:37:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8377687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GRtheS/pseuds/GRtheS
Summary: Shortly after the events of the season one finale, Mariah makes a play to keep her seat on the city council. Later, she and Shades take their first steps towards establishing their relationship.





	

Mariah didn’t need protecting. Not anymore. She’d tried to tell him a hundred times - once with the palm of her hand - and still, Shades remained. Always on her, in her space. It was a strange, suffocating kind of comfort, like a hand softly gripping her by the throat. She hated it.

 

It was impossible to even go for a walk, or grab a cup of coffee alone. He insisted on following, not in so many words, but wherever she’d go, there he’d be. Even in her own home, there was no evading his presence. The study was her last refuge. There she could relax, read the paper, books, correspondence from constituents. With her tucked away, he was free to go out and handle the less savory aspects of their business and she was free to think clearly. Still, he never seemed very far.

 

Perhaps it was her fault. She was feeling herself that night: drunk with power and filled with new hope for her future. When you’re already flying high, what’s the harm in soaring a little higher? In her club, with the lights low, and that damned song playing, it just felt right. The kiss was about that moment, her stepping into her destiny. Not him. Maybe one day she’d admit what that extra little bite was for but, at the end of the day, Mr. Shades was just a very handsome means to an end. She was certain the feeling was mutual; they were nothing more than two partners in criminal enterprise.

 

Today was about legitimate business. The speaker of city council was paying her a personal visit. Ever since the mess with that backwards freak Luke Cage, she’d been on thin ice with them. Her party had disavowed her, announced her resignation (which she refuted, clarifying that she was merely taking a brief leave), practically tried to run her out of town, but she was still holding on. The ground was splintering beneath her, and this meeting could be her saving grace. Of course, there’d be a catch - there always was - but as dear Cornell could attest, Mariah was willing to make necessary sacrifices.

 

She checked her watch: ten after. The speaker was late. A show of power, no doubt. Punctuality was a rare treat in an industry of petty, overgrown boys. She mentally prepared herself for what was sure to be an unpleasant encounter.

 

She passed the time with her letters. She liked receiving them, writing them. It was a dying form of communication, but classic, just like her. She preferred to open them herself; there was something deeply satisfying about sliding her gilded letter opener from end to end, revealing an envelope’s contents. Plus, Alex had an annoying habit of weeding out the negative ones and she did not like being kept in the dark. “Give it all to me, baby" she’d say. “I can take the good and the bad.” And they were bad these days. Terrible, actually. Filled with how could yous, disgraces, shames, and sell-outs. The people couldn’t see it right now, but she did love Harlem. Even as she read a particularly nasty note, filled with words so ugly she’d never heard them spoken aloud, she knew: she was going to win them back. She was going to make Harlem great again. She just needed an opportunity.

 

There was a knock at the door. She stood, smoothed her hair, straightened her blouse. “Come in.” She suppressed a frown: It was Shades. _Where was Alex?_ She’d been very clear about the two mens’ roles in her life. Shades could certainly dress, but he didn’t project the right image. This was not a man you took to fundraisers and community outreach; he was built for back alley dealings and late nights at the club. A two thousand dollar suit couldn’t change that.

 

“You have a guest,” he announced. There was something in his voice, they way he looked at her. It was like he could hear her thoughts. He had a very deliberate manner of speaking. He could could repeat the same line thirty times over and each repetition would have a different meaning. What was that in his tone? What was he trying to say and why was she thinking about this right now?

 

Shades stepped aside, making room for Wallace Langford. All six feet and three hundred pounds of him. A husky man with an amiable face and no discernible talents, he’d risen through the political ranks by consistently finding himself in the right place at the right time. Langford, of course, would be the first one to boast that he’d pulled himself up by his own boot straps.

 

Mariah greeted him warmly, extending her hand for a shake. "Mr. Speaker."

 

“Muh-ri-uhhh!” He obnoxiously crowed her name like he was singing the Martin theme song, and forwent the handshake for a bear hug that nearly lifted her off the ground.

 

Shades eyed him warily from the doorway. _People that friendly ain’t really your friends._

 

Wallace tossed a questioning nod in his direction and waggled his finger near his eyes. _What’s up with the sunglasses?_ "Nice guy!"

 

“That he is. Please. Sit.” Mariah waved Wallace towards her desk and watched him carelessly plop down in his seat. She did her best not to think about the poor, vintage oak chair sagging beneath his weight. It had survived nearly a hundred years in her family - through poverty, drunken fights, arson, and the occasional shootout - only to be crushed by an asshole in a cheap suit.

 

She took her place behind the desk and tossed a nod of her own at Shades. “Thank you, Hernan” she chirped. She smiled tightly, internally screaming for him to excuse himself. He, instead, closed the door and planted himself squarely in front of it. What could she do? He was staying.

 

“It’s good to see you’re managing to keep everything together,” Wallace remarked, giving Mariah and her office the once-over.

 

She smiled through his shady bullshit, spreading her arms magnanimously.“You know me, Wally; I stay busy. Even when I’m in the doghouse.”

 

Wallace stifled a chuckle, cleared his throat, and pressed forward. "Yes, well. I’ll get right to it: you’ve been such a vital part of city council over these years and, frankly? We miss you, girl.” He leaned back and crossed his leg, coming dangerously close to resting his foot on her desk.

 

"It’s nice to be missed.”

 

“I’d hate to see your recent troubles sideline such a promising political career.”

 

“Temporary setbacks, i assure you. I am ready to get back to work.” She was being nakedly honest, but firm. He was not going to make her sweat.

 

From the cheap seats, Shades watched the conversation unfold with rapt attention. Before Mariah, he’d never seen a person communicate on so many levels at once. Text, subtext, pretext, super text: it was all there and they’d barely begun. These political beasts were just starting to peel off their gloves.

 

Wallace pursed his lips and put on an air of faux concern. “Still all the scandal is quite worrying. i’ve even heard some talk of a recall. It’s going to take a major feat to get you back in the public’s good graces…"

 

They were finally getting down to the nitty gritty. Mariah didn’t miss a beat. “I take it you have one in mind.”

 

“Since you asked, Columbia is looking to expand."

 

“And water is wet."

 

This time, they both laughed, faces pulled into tight smiles, baring far too much tooth.

 

“Mariah, you’ve got to see the mock-ups. Simply stunning: they’ve specced a new research center, a gallery for art and spoken word, a luxury high rise to house high-profile visiting professors and alumnae. They’re looking to be the city's scholastic mecca, foster an academic community that serves not only the people of New York, but also has global reach.”

 

He paused and looked at her expectantly: _This is where you chime in._

 

 _“_ Sounds wonderful,” she offered.

 

“The only thing is-“

 

_Here we go._

 

He leaned in as if he was entrusting her with a precious secret. “Columbia doesn’t have the real estate.”

 

“Uh-huh."

 

"The plots they’ve targeted are currently owned and operated by Excellence Academy. The university has reached out to the school, but they’re not biting. We need a, a _different_ voice to help finesse this. I understand you have a personal connection-"

 

Wallace kept blathering as Mariah went, not blind, but deaf with rage. _This was his ask? Selling out one of Harlem’s jewels to Columbia?_  

 

Shades shook his head. He almost felt bad for the dude: the meeting was over and he didn’t even know it yet..

 

Mariah politely cut Wallace off. ”Fostering an academic community by shuttering high-performing neighborhood charter schools?"

 

“It’s _Columbia_ ,” he shrugged.

 

Mariah blinked her anger away and smiled sweetly. He wasn’t going to take her out her character. Not today. “I understand completely.”

 

Wallace clapped his hands excitedly. _That was easy!_ “Oh! Oh, excellent! So you’ll talk to them.”

 

Mariah rose to her feet, straightening out her skirt. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

An empty promise if he ever did hear one. Wallace’s self-satisfied smirk contorted into a scowl. Mariah crossed to him, again offering a handshake. “Thank you for stopping by.”

 

“Now wait a minute.” Frustrated, Wallace pushed himself to his feet, blocking her path to the door. “This project does not go without you. As one of Harlem’s gatekeepers, your support here is imperative.” Mariah glanced past Landford and noticed Shades’ posture changing; he was straightening up as if preparing for confrontation. She was losing control of the room. Suddenly the air in her study became heavy, too thick to breathe. The hand around her throat had started to squeeze.

 

She raised a calming hand. _Stay. Everyone, just stay._  They weren't in Domingo’s gym or even Harlem’s Paradise. In her home, decorum was to be maintained at all times. 

 

She poured all the sugar she could find into her voice. “Now Wallace, you know me. I told you I’d see what I could do and I meant it.”

 

“That’s not good enough. Let me break this down for you: maintaining your seat on the council is contingent upon moving the central, secondary, and early learning locations of Excellence Academy the fuck out. Doesn’t matter where, put them in Staten Island for all I care, but they’ve got to get out of here.”

 

Now Mariah was pissed. She'd had no intention of pressuring the academy, but she had hoped to find a solution that served everyone’s interests. Now all she wanted to do was tell this man about himself.

 

“Mr. Speaker, you are aware of the academy’s demographics.”

 

Wallace sputtered at her audacity. Was she trying to play the race card? Everyone in the tri-state area knew he had voted for Obama. Twice! That wasn’t going to fly with him.

 

“I’ll have you know, _councilwoman_ , that diversity at Columbia is up-“

 

“Don’t sell me that crock of shit. You want me to force the po’ lil black kids out so you can funnel more white dollars and people into Harlem. What kind of gatekeeper would I be if I just held open the door while you walked out with all my stuff?

 

"The corrupt kind with no friends, and no other cards to play.” He jabbed an angry finger in her face, far too close for comfort. Shades was ready to make his move. Mariah caught his eye again and gestured firmly for him to stop. _Relax. That is not how we handle things. I got this._

 

She wasn’t lying. She curled her lips, batted her big, beautiful eyes at the giant towering over her, and went in for the kill.

 

“Well, Mr. Speaker. I’d rather be corrupt with my heart in the right place than be a mediocre, over-privileged, upward failure on his last term with absolutely no legacy or accomplishments to speak of. You can see yourself out.”

 

That cut deep. Mariah was already halfway back to her chair by the time Wallace could form a response. “Who do you think you are,”  he grabbed her by the arm, yanking her back into his orbit. “You raggedy-"

 

As if it was second nature, Mariah snatched up her letter opener and slashed him across the arm. "Don’t you ever a day in your life put your hands on me!

 

Wallace clutched his forearm in pain. “Gotdamnit, you bi-

 

Mariah advanced on him, pressing the blade into his chest. Hard. “Call me out my name, I dare you. Say another word. They’ll be finding pieces of you up and down Malcolm X 'til Christmas."

 

The Speaker's eyes widened. That was no empty promise. He became acutely aware of the unsmiling man at the door, noticing, for the first time, his black gloves and what looked to be the outline of a gun beneath his tailored suit. The look on the man’s face, Aaron he thought she called him, was ghastly - as if not putting his fist through Wallace’s chest caused him great physical pain. _Was he…one of them_? Mr. Langford found himself trapped between two suddenly very scary people. His eyes darted between Shades and Mariah, frantically trying to suss out the least dangerous option. He became very, very apologetic. 

 

"Mariah, I-“

 

“LEAVE,” she bellowed, tapping into a rage she never thought she’d feel again.

 

He fled, stumbling backwards, and nearly pissing himself as he came face to face with the bespectacled goon at the door.

 

Mariah steadied herself against the desk, still reeling, slowly finding her way back into her body. She examined the letter opener, running her manicured fingers along the blade. What had she done? Had she really maimed and threatened a city councilman? She’d barely broken the skin, but imperceptible to the eye, there was blood there. Lately, it seemed everything she touched turned to blood. The violent urges she’d always suppressed were getting harder to resist.

 

She looked to the door, locking eyes with Shades.

 

_Right. You’re still here. Enjoying my descent._

 

“You alright?" He gazed at her intensely, eyes aflame.

When did the glasses come off? Or had they never been on? He looked positively radioactive: clenching and unclenching his fists, swaying side to side. Ready to explode. Was he this savage? if going after the speaker would make him feel better, fine. He was clever enough to make his point without causing too much damage and she needed a moment to breathe, feel human again.

 

She cut her eyes at him dismissively. _Relieve yourself._

 

It was as if there’d been an invisible wall between them, and she’d sent it crashing down. Shades surged towards her, taking her by the elbows and sending the letter opener crashing to the floor. What was he doing? He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. At a total loss, she searched his face for some sign. Is this what passed for a hug in his mind? After these few weeks of working together, she thought she had a handle on him, but this? This was foreign, this was baffling, this was..electrifying. She gave herself permission to give into this strange embrace. To take him in, let her breath match the raggedness of his.

 

His hands did not roam. His now gloveless fingers planted firmly in her upper arms, replacing the speaker's prints with his own. Any normal man would have checked her for injuries, hell, maybe even kissed her by now. Slid his hands down the curves of her body, gripped her by the small of her back. But this was no ordinary man. What was he waiting for?

 

Then it dawned on her. _Me. He’s waiting for me._

 

She gingerly placed a hand on his chest, slightly pushing him away. Their eyes met and, in an instant, he knew that she knew. What he’s wanted, needed from the moment he laid eyes on her. 

 

She approached him with some curiosity. Let her hand explore his chest, slowly trickle down his abs, and toy with his belt. He watched her patiently as she discovered him for the first time. There was no denying the bulge fighting against the front of his slacks, but she simply smiled and moved her hands to caresses the sides of his neck. 

 

She peered at him, examining the faint lines in his face. He wasn’t _that_ young. He was a man. It was hard to picture him as a teen running the streets with her cousin. She was sorry that she didn’t remember. Even sorrier that she hadn’t bothered to know him. She could have been a friend to him. Maybe things would have turned out differently for them both. But they didn’t.

 

So here he was. standing at full attention in her home office, awaiting her next move. She traced her fingers along the edges of his pointy little ears then made her way down his jawline. Emboldened, he snuck a quick kiss to the palm of her hand. She smirked. _Go on._

 

Staring directly into her eyes he slowly kissed from the base of her thumb to its tip, taking it into his mouth and sucking softly. _Are you pleased?_  

 

“Yes.” 

 

Had she said that aloud? She must have because, in a flash, he nipped at her thumb, perhaps retribution for that night at the club. Just as quickly, she popped him on the cheek. He broke their gaze for the first time in what felt like ages and laughed, appropriately shamed.

 

Too far. Too bad. Fun would have to come another day.

 

She playfully pushed him out of reach and stepped over the letter opener as if she were shimmying out of a pair of panties. As she strutted out of the room, she called over her shoulder:

 

“It’s yours. If you want it.”

 

This time, he didn’t watch her go. She was already his.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic! I'm obsessed with Shades and Mariah; by far the best part of Luke Cage. Their chemistry is crazy, and I'm excited to watch their saga unfold, from business to pleasure, and everything in between.


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